She knew they had to leave. They’d discussed it over coffee the morning after Roxanne’s nightmare, the one that left her scarred. They would give themselves three more days here, just long enough for Roxanne to pack what she needed and harvest some seeds from her garden to take with them. It had been Wren’s idea, to bring some along. The garden had been born with the most beautiful, lightest of magics. It would help keep them safe in their journey, Wren was certain. And it would provide Roxanne some comfort, at the very least, to not entirely abandon the very thing she cherished most. Wren helped where she could, picking out small items and trinkets from the home the vibrated with the brightest of frequencies. They didn’t need much, she figured. Food was most important. And at least they had a car to carry them and their belongings out of the city -- out of the darkness that had manifested so strongly here.
Wren had offered to sleep in Roxanne’s room again, if only to help ward off whatever shadows waited to find the blonde in her sleep. But the other witch kindly declined the offer, if for no other reason than to spare Wren the burden (Roxanne’s words, of course, as it certainly hadn’t been a burden the night before). The witch dozed lightly through the early hours of the night, which made it easy for the shifting air in the room to startle her away. Someone entered... and through the darkness, Wren made out the familiar figure. “Roxanne?” She sat up just slightly. “Is everything alright?” Her magic reached out, stroked once over the other witch, searching for any signs of darkness. “Another nightmare?”
